The Mysterious Island: The Castaways from the Sky

Chapter VII

The reporter's reflections—Supper—Neb has not yet returned—A bad night
coming on—A frightful storm—Departure during the night—Struggling
against the rain and the wind—Eight miles from the first encampment.

Gideon Spilett, motionless, his arms crossed, was on
the beach looking at the sea whose horizon was obscured in the east by a
large black cloud that was rapidly moving towards the zenith. The wind
was already strong and becoming fresher with the decline of day. The sky
looked bad and the first symptoms of a storm were apparent.

Herbert entered the Chimneys and Pencroff went to the reporter. The
latter, very absorbed, did not see him come.

“We are going to have a bad night, Mister Spilett!” said the sailor.
“Rain and wind are the joy of petrels.” 1

The reporter, then turning, saw Pencroff and his first words were these:

“At what distance from the coast would you say the basket was when it was
struck by the wave which carried off our companion?”

The sailor had not expected this question. He reflected for a moment and
replied:

“At two cables length at most.”

“But what is a cable length?” asked Gideon Spilett.

“About one hundred twenty fathoms or six hundred feet.”

“Then,” said the reporter, “Cyrus Smith disappeared twelve hundred feet
at most from the shore?”

“About,” replied Pencroff.

“And his dog also?”

“Also.”

“What astonishes me,” added the reporter, “while admitting that our
companion has perished, is that Top has likewise met his end and that
neither the body of the dog nor that of his master has been thrown on
shore.”

“It is not astonishing with such a strong sea,” replied the sailor.
“Besides, it is possible that the current has carried them further along
the coast.”

“Thus it is your opinion that our companion has perished among the
waves?” the reporter asked again.

“That is my opinion.”

“My opinion,” said Gideon Spilett, “much as I respect your experience,
Pencroff, is that the double fact of the absolute disappearance of Cyrus
and Top, living or dead, is an inexplicable thing and improbable.”

That said, the sailor returned to the Chimneys. A good fire crackled on
the hearth. Herbert threw an armful of dry wood on it and the flame shed
light into the gloomy parts of the passageway. Pencroff occupied himself
at once with preparing dinner. It seemed best to introduce into the menu
some “pièce de résistance” because everyone needed to renew his strength.
The strings of couroucous were saved for the next day but they plucked
two grouse and soon the gallinules were roasting on a spit in front of a
flaming fire.

At seven o’clock in the evening Neb had not yet returned. This prolonged
absence could only make Pencroff uneasy about the negro. They were forced
to believe that he had met with some accident on this unknown land or
that the unfortunate had performed some act of despair. But Herbert drew
totally different conclusions from this absence. According to him, if Neb
had not yet returned, it was due to some new circumstance which caused
him to prolong his search. Now anything new could only be to Cyrus
Smith’s advantage. Why had Neb not returned unless some hope retained
him? Perhaps he had found some indication, a footprint, the remains of a
wreck which put him on the track? Perhaps at this very moment he was
following a certain clue? Perhaps he was even near his master?...

Thus reasoned the lad. Thus he spoke. His companions let him speak. The
reporter alone approved with a gesture. But for Pencroff it was probable
that Neb had gone further than the previous day in his search along the
coast and that he could not yet return.

However, Herbert was agitated by vague premonitions and several times he
wanted to go to meet Neb. But Pencroff made him understand that it would
be a useless course, that in this obscurity and because of the deplorable
weather, he could not find traces of Neb, and that it was worth waiting.
If by the next day Neb had not reappeared, Pencroff would not hesitate to
join Herbert in going to search for Neb.

On this point Gideon Spilett agreed with he sailor that they must not
separate and Herbert had to give up his project; but two large tears fell
from his eyes.

The reporter could not refrain from embracing the generous lad.

The bad weather had absolutely broken out. A violent southeast windstorm
without equal passed over the coast. They heard the sea, then at low
tide, roar against the leading rocks on the beach. The rain, pulverized
by the storm, rose up like a wet mist. Wisps of fog dragged along the
shore where pebbles rattled violently like cartloads emptying themselves.
The sand, lifted by the wind, mashed into showers and made the assault
indefensible. There was just as much mineral dust in the air as water
vapor. Large eddies swirled between the mouth of the river and the face
of the wall and the stratum of air that escaped from this maelstrom could
find no exit other than the narrow valley whose watercourse was engulfed
with a irresistible violence. The smoke from the hearth, restricted by
the narrow passageway, backed up frequently, filling the corridors and
rendering them uninhabitable.

That is why, as soon as the grouse were roasted, Pencroff let the fire
die down, conserving nothing but the embers buried under the cinders.

At eight o’clock Neb has still not reappeared; but they could now assume
that it was the awful weather alone that prevented his return and that he
had found refuge in some hollow to wait out the end of the storm or at
least the return of day. As to going to meet him, to attempt to find him
under these conditions, this was impossible.

The game formed the only dish of supper. They gladly ate this meat which
was excellent. Pencroff and Herbert, whose appetites were excited by
their long excursion, were ravenous.

Then each retired to the corner where he had rested the previous night,
and Herbert was not long in falling asleep near the sailor who stretched
out along the length of the hearth.

Outside, as the night advanced, the tempest took on formidable
proportions. It was a windstorm comparable to the one that carried the
prisoners from Richmond to this land in the Pacific. Tempests are
frequent during the equinoctial season. They are fruitful in producing
terrible catastrophes throughout this large area where there are no
obstacles to oppose their fury. One can then understand that a coast so
exposed to the east, that is to say in direct line with the storm and
struck headlong, was battered by a force that cannot be described.

Very fortunately, the pile of rocks which formed the Chimneys was sturdy.
It was composed of enormous sections of granite of which a few,
nevertheless, not being in sufficient balance, seemed to tremble on their
base. Pencroff sensed this and pressing his hand against the walls felt
the rapid quiverings. But finally he said to himself over and over, and
with reason, that there was nothing to fear and that his improvised
retreat would not cave in. Nevertheless he heard the clatter of the rocks
which, detached from the summit of the plateau and uprooted by the
swirling wind, fell on the beach. A few even rolled as far as the upper
part of the Chimneys or broke into splinters when they fell straight
down. Twice the sailor got up and crawled to the opening of the
passageway to look outside. But these falls which were not considerable
did not constitute any danger and he returned to his place in front of
the fire whose embers were sputtering under the cinders.

Pencorff crawled to the opening of the passageway.

Despite the furies of the hurricane, the roar of the tempest, the thunder
of the storm, Herbert was in a deep sleep. Sleep finally took possession
even of Pencroff since a seaman’s life had accustomed him to all these
violences. Gideon Spilett alone was wide awake because of the commotion.
He reproached himself for not having accompanied Neb. One could see that
all hope had not abandoned him. The misgivings that had agitated Herbert
did not cease to agitate him also. His thoughts were concentrated on Neb.
Why had Neb not returned? He tossed on his bed of sand hardly giving a
thought to the battle of the elements. At times his eyes, heavy with
fatigue, closed for an instant but some cursory thought reopened them
almost at once.

However the night advanced and it may have been two o’clock in the
morning when Pencroff, then in a deep sleep, was shaken vigorously.

“What is it?” he cried, awakening and recollecting his thoughts with a
promptitude typical of seamen.

The reporter was leaning over him and said to him:

“Listen Pencroff, listen!”

The sailor cocked his ear but could not distinguish any sound foreign to
that of the squall.

“That isn’t possible!” replied the sailor. “And besides, how with the
roar of the storm...”

“Wait... Listen...” said the reporter.

Pencroff listened more attentively and in fact he thought that he heard a
distant barking in a quiet moment.

“Well!...” said the reporter, pressing the sailor’s hand.

“Yes... Yes!...” replied Pencroff.

“It’s Top!... It’s Top!...” shouted Herbert, just awakening, and all
three dashed toward the entrance to the Chimneys.

They left with extreme difficulty. The wind drove them back. But finally
they succeeded although they could not stand erect without resting
against the rocks. They saw but they could not speak.

The obscurity was absolute. The sea, the sky, the ground were merged in
equal darkness. It seemed that there was not an atom of light in the sky.

For several minutes the reporter and his two companions remained so,
crushed by the storm, drenched by the rain, blinded by the sand. Then
they heard the barking once again during a respite in the storm, which
came from rather far away.

It could only be Top barking this way! But was he alone or accompanied?
Most likely he was alone because if they assumed that Neb was with him,
Neb would have gone with all speed toward the Chimneys.

Since he could not make himself heard the sailor pressed the hand of the
reporter as if to say: “Wait!” Then he reentered the corridor.

An instant later he came out again with a lighted faggot which lit up the
gloom. He whistled sharply.

It seemed as if this signal was expected. In response the barking came
much nearer and soon a dog dashed into the corridor. Pencroff, Herbert
and Gideon Spilett followed him there.

...this signal was expected.

An armful of dry wood was thrown on the embers. A vivid flame lit up the
corridor.

“It’s Top!” shouted Herbert.

In fact it was Top, a magnificent anglo-norman crossbreed who inherited
from both species speed and odor sensitivity, the two qualities par
excellence of the hunting dog.

It was the dog of the engineer Cyrus Smith.

But he was alone! Neither his master nor Neb accompanied him!

Moreover how had his instinct been able to lead him to the Chimneys which
he did not know? This appeared inexplicable especially on such a dark
night, and in such a storm! An even more inexplicable detail was that Top
was neither fatigued nor exhausted, not even soiled with mud or sand!...

Herbert went toward him and pressed his head between his hands. The dog
rubbed his neck on the lad’s hands.

“If the dog has been found the master will also be found!” said the
reporter.

“God will it!” replied Herbert. “Let us leave! Top will guide us!”

Pencroff made no objection. He felt that Top’s arrival contradicted his
conjectures.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Pencroff carefully covered the embers of the fire. He placed several
pieces of wood under the cinders so that the fire could be rekindled on
their return. Then, preceded by the dog who seemed to invite them with
short barks, and followed by the reporter and the lad, he dashed outside
after having taken the remains of the supper.

The storm was then in all its violence and perhaps even at its maximum
intensity. No moonlight filtered through the clouds since the moon was
then new and as a consequence in conjunction with the sun. It was
difficult to follow a straight course. It was best to rely on Top’s
instinct. This is what was done. The reporter and the lad followed behind
the dog and the sailor brought up the rear. No exchange of words was
possible. The rain did not fall very abundantly because it was pulverized
by the blast of the storm but the storm was terrible.

However one circumstance very happily favored the sailor and his two
companions. The wind in fact blew from the southeast and consequently it
pushed them from the back. The sand which was violently thrown about and
which would not have been bearable, hit them from the rear, and provided
no one turned around, it did not interfere with their journey. In
summation they often went faster than they wanted. It affected their walk
almost to the point of throwing them down but an immense hope doubled
their efforts and it was no longer at random this time that they ascended
the shore. They had no doubt that Neb had found his master and had sent
the faithful dog to them. But was the engineer living or was Neb only
summoning his companions to render the last rites to the body of the
unfortunate Smith?

After going beyond the cut slab of the highland which they prudently side
stepped, Herbert, the reporter and Pencroff stopped to catch their
breath. The turn of the cliff sheltered them from the wind and they
caught their breath after this march of a quarter of an hour which had
been something of a race.

At this moment they could hear and reply and the lad pronounced the name
of Cyrus Smith. Top barked in short barks as if he wanted to say that his
master was rescued.

“Saved, isn’t he?” repeated Herbert, “Saved, Top?”

And the dog barked as if in response.

The march was resumed. It was about half past two in the morning. The sea
began to rise and driven by the wind this tide, which was an equinoctial
tide, threatened to be very strong. The large waves boomed against the
reef and assailed it with such violence that very likely it would pass
over the islet, then completely invisible. This long barrier could
therefore no longer protect the coast which was directly exposed to the
onslaught of the open sea.

As soon as the sailor and his companions left the cut slab behind, the
wind struck them anew with an extreme fury. Bent and straining their
backs against the squall, they moved very quickly following Top who did
not hesitate as to the direction to take. They went north having on their
right an interminable crest of waves which broke with a deafening roar
and on their left an obscure land the aspect of which it was impossible
to know. But they sensed that it was relatively flat because the wind now
passed over them without turning them about, an effect which was produced
when it struck them at the granite wall.

At four o’clock in the morning they estimated that a distance of five
miles had been covered. The clouds were slightly higher and did not drag
the ground. The squall, less humid, moving in very brisk currents, was
drier and colder. Insufficiently protected by their clothing, Pencroff,
Herbert and Gideon Spilett suffered cruelly but not a complaint escaped
their lips. They had decided to follow Top wherever the intelligent
animal wanted to lead them.

About five o’clock day began to break. First, at the zenith, where the
haze was not so dense, several grayish hues delineated the border of the
clouds and soon, beneath an opaque band, a more luminous stretch clearly
outlined the water’s horizon. The crest of waves had a light brown
glimmer and the foam was white. At the same time, on the left, the random
parts of the coast began to loom up vaguely, but it was still in the gray
of the night.

At six o’clock in the morning day broke. The clouds moved rapidly to a
relatively higher elevation. The sailor and his companions were then
about six miles from the Chimneys. They followed a very flat shoreline
bordered on the open sea by a line of rocks whose tops alone emerged. On
the left the country was composed of several uneven dunes bristling with
thistles, offering a rather savage aspect in a vast sandy region. The
shoreline was not indented and offerred no barrier to the ocean other
than an irregular chain of hillocks. Here and there one or two twisted
trees were bent toward the west, with their branches projecting in this
direction. Well behind them, in the southwest, appeared the edge of the
forest.

At this moment Top gave unequivocal signs of agitation. He went on ahead
and returned to the sailor as if urging him to hasten his steps. The dog
had then left the beach and, driven on by an admirable instinct, without
showing a moment’s hesitation, he entered among the dunes.

They followed him. The country appeared to be absolutely deserted. Not a
living being anywhere.

The very extensive area of the dunes was composed of hillocks and even of
randomly distributed hills. It was like a miniature Switzerland in sand
and nothing less than a prodigious instinct could recognize it.

Five minutes after having left the beach the reporter and his companions
arrived in front of a sort of excavation hollowed out in the rear of a
high dune. There Top stopped and barked loud and clear. Spilett, Herbert
and Pencroff dashed into the cave.

Neb was there kneeling next to a body lying on a bed of grass... The body
was that of the engineer Cyrus Smith.